Work continues apace

The master bedroom is getting done today and then Unca Dave is leaving tomorrow for Gadget House – a day earlier than planned.  He will be returning to finish the bathroom and the trim and then head back to the wilds of Castlegar. 

Katie slept at home last night.

Although for the dignity and sanity of the miscreants I cannot name names, I love my coworkers.  Yesterday marked the 10th anniversary of my full time employment with the company that any widgeon with a cursory understanding of the internet could learn the name of.  I got THE BEST PRESENT from a coworker ever; it was a MOMENT and not a thing, but it was a frikken priceless moment, and I snicker helplessly every time I think of it. 

I was awoken by choppers this morning and learned at the bus stop that two human hearts stopped beating two blocks from my house.

I have been having dreams with colour in them.  In the first one Paul and I were living in a three story house when a yellow piece of landing gear came through the roof.  (I took this as a sign that Paul’s not going to make it in Vancouver through the layoffs, but we’ll see.) The following night I dreamed I was in a women’s change room and I picked up a bath bomb and it turned into an explosion of purple mud which I promptly painted my chest with.  It smelled good, too.  I very rarely feel or smell things in dreams, so I was quite pleased about that. 

 

I am so spaced out that I took a bag of plastic insects instead of my bathing suit out to Tom and Peggy’s car last night.  That makes me snicker too.

Trim

Yesterday I cleaned, painted trim (1st coat) and moved crap around.  Tom and Peggy fed me and Martha (may she (many years hence) inhabit a cushy cloud in the Hesht Behesht) gave me about fifteen minutes of neck and shoulder work, which I desperately needed.

Work is rapidly improving over my last grumpy post on the matter.  There has been, as they say, a sea-change. 

Tonight I put on the second coat and go to the puddle with Tom and Peggy and anybody else we can inveigle into going.

Glenn and Maggie were here last night as well to eat with Paul and Keith and Unca Dave, and they were still here when I got back from Tom and Peggy’s, so I got in a nice visit with them.

 

Man does the place look better…. the ceilings are shiny and clean!

Busy day

After a work week from hell, which only got better when I got a lift to the golf course with Brian C., and where we said goodbye to Will C. who went to a place that’s paying him… uh… a lot more than he was making …. I came home with the Dalai Jarmo and Susanna (may they be blessed and adored) and found out that much work had been accomplished.

The master bedroom is now empty of everything except the clothing in the closet and three pieces of furniture. Katie’s room proceeds apace but needs more ceiling paint and a top coat. Keith’s room ditto. Right now Paul’s working on electrical and Dave’s painting up a storm.

I’m off to Benjamin Moore in New West to buy more paint and another cutting brush, after which I’ll be coming back here and emptying cupboards etc so the menfolks can move the fridge and paint behind it. Then I will be doing whatever I’m physically capable of doing to speed things along as well as any domestic stuff like keeping food happening.

I am happy to report that two weeks of sitting on an exercise ball at work have strengthened my abs and lats to the point that my back is much better. I’m working on an ear infection but it’s better this morning than it was last night (I was practically in tears when I begged T3s from Keith) and if I spike a fever I’ll whip off to the clinic for antibiotics. I’m thinking of making some eyebright tea and applying it – thus far I’ve been managing with hydrogen peroxide.

Now to find some clothes to change into, ha ha, and I’m off. Pic of St Patrick stolen from Wikipedia. I meant to post this yesterday but I forgot to take it off draft mode.

Quote from today’s Huffpo written by David Roberts

Read the whole post here.

 

Many people in the environmental field — and I’d even generalize to progressives, broadly speaking — seem to be operating on a set of assumptions:

  1. The facts, organized and clearly conveyed, should carry the day.
  2. When facts do not change minds, more facts are required, perhaps delivered more slowly.
  3. When facts do not change hearts, more facts are required, perhaps delivered more loudly.
  4. Those not swayed by facts are intellectually, possibly morally, deficient.
  5. If sticking to the facts means losing a debate, well, that’s the price of virtue.

New Song

She came to grief in a hotel room
Like famous people do
The way the media carried on
You’d think she died for me and you
They say speak gently of the dead
Don’t bandy with her name
But her life was sure instructive
on the vagaries of fame

Chorus:

Slimfast and Methadone
Girl I’m in your debt
I got a great line for a chorus
and the story isn’t over yet.

Leave ’em while you’re looking good
Advice she took to heart
She was born to play the blonde bimbo
and she really nailed the part
She married her attorney but
I don’t think it turned out
The paternity, the autopsy
and the estate are all in doubt

Chorus

Slimfast and Methadone
was all you had
in your fridge
I still can’t believe it
It’s a perfect rhyme for bri–i-i-i-dge

Humans love their beauty
it’s a curse upon our race
the powerful are using it
to hide what’s really taking place
Zombies stalk the headlines
while all the peace talks stall
If celebrities don’t quit dying
We’ll never fix the world at all.

Chorus x 2.